


Lightning & Thunder

by Idunn



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Chubby Reader, F/M, Wish Fulfillment, fat reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-08-31 03:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8561332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idunn/pseuds/Idunn
Summary: An encounter with Captain Cold in the nightime. What could go wrong?





	1. Watching the sky

**Author's Note:**

> Ohhhh another Reader fic! I love this. Just an idea I had walking the dog, of course. Please be gentle, I don't have a beta reader yet (if you want to be mine please write me a message!). I am watching the first season of The Flash and of course, became enamoured with this Leonard. I have a thig for Leonards, I guess. Please enjoy!

It's nightime and a slight breeze ruffles your hair as you walk down to the nearest dog park. It's almost spring, so the nights are getting longer and warm, the perfect weather for a little stroll. You dog was getting antsy all cooped up in your little apartment, so a little walk was in order.

Walking at night, by yourself. Not your best idea.

You look around. Where the hell is your dog?

You hear a very distinctive canine whimper and a voice. A man's voice. It sounds pained.

-Help me up, sweetheart. Or the dog gets it.

 

He is at your apartment, a bleeding wound at his tight. “A... former associate of mine shot me in the leg. Fortunately, he won't be making the same mistake again” he said, a scary expression in his face.

You helped him out of his pants and he started to clean the wound himself.  
-Sit tight, darling. You don't look so chilly yourself.

It´s the first time you saw a gunshot wound. And you hope it was the last, of course.

Trying to distract yourself, you looked at the man. Close cropped hair, startling blue eyes, abs for miles (yes, you peeked as you helped him out of his clothes. Only human) and powerful legs. Too many scars for someone who looked as young as him.

But, of course, a criminal had to have some scars. It came with the territory, of course.

As you were thinking, you felt his eyes on you. You feel pretty naked all of sudden. Not that you were, of course. But your leggins and oversized tee bared enough skin for him to look at. 

He smirked as he raked down your body, from the crown of your hair to your socked feets. Your... generous form in your casual clothes means that all you usually covered up was on display. Your generous cleavage and the rolls of your belly. Your big tights, encased in black, shiny lycra. Your big ass. Your arms, as you hugged yourself. A tendril of something – maybe cold?- makes you shiver and your nipples get rock hard, and as his gaze lowers, you remeber that you took your bra off after work, like usual.

You run to the kitchen, and spy from the doors as he metodically sews himself, sparing some glances to look for you. You feel a bouth of nausea, trying to remember why did you help this man. It was fear? Compassion? Or lust?

You breath slow, metodically, trying not to lose your late lunch down the drain.  
His voice startles you. When did you close your eyes?

-If you have a pair of sweats that I could brorrow, I'll be out of your hair- he says, blue eyes zeroing into your pale skin, your red eyes and clammy look of your face. 

You fell a bubble of laugh crawling up your throath.

A gorgeous guy, all ripped and half naked, with those amazing eyes... of course this was the only way a person so attractive would be at your place. Someone who probably will kill you after stealing your sweats.  
You started to laugh in earnest, tears runnig down your cheeks. You slide to the floor. Unbelievable.

A hand appeared to your right, holding a tea towel. You cleaned your face, controlled your breathing, and raised your head to face your death.

-Are you OK?- he asks, a worried tone in his words.  
-Why do you care? You're a criminal. You threathened me, and my dog, for my help. Besides, I'm sure you'll kill me as soon you put on a clean pair of pants, isn't it?

The man seems to deflate, all his bravado gone.  
-You helped me, nonetheless. I wouldn't kill you! I owe you a debt – he says, looking at the floor – and I don't like to owe. Just to be owed.-

You sigh, relieved. Why do you believe in someone you don't know? Stupid. You get up slowly, incredibly tired.

-Ok, Mister. I have a pair of sweats, but you are so much taller than I am, so...-  
-We'll make do – he says, following me to my bedroom.

Another day, another dollar, they say. You wish it was so easy.

You were walking home, bone-tired and with a headache to boot. It's have been a week after your encouter with Captain Cold, as the press called him. And it's sad that you are so out of touch with current events that it took you three days to figure that the same man that had exposed The Flash to the public was the man you took to your apartment?

Even if those fine features were unforgettable. 

You get home, say hello to your dog and take your bra and shoes off. You feel cold, so a pair of leggins, some fluffy socks and your robe and you are set to watch some time with some snacks. It looks like a storm is coming. 

A knock at your window gets your heart racing. You turn and the face of one Captain Cold greets from the other side of the glass. He's not smiling, but is not glaring either, so you let him in.

-I know you didn't left anything behind. What to you want, Captain Cold?- you said, mockingly.-I could have called the police, but I didn't. In fact, I didn't tell anybody. I followed your instruccions to the letter.-

He looks at you, and there's something in his eyes. Not a smile, but a flicker of emotion, too quick to parse.  
-I told you, I don't like owing. I like to do the owning- he says, his eyes raking down your body as he extends his arm, an envelope in hand. You cross your arms. 

His gaze hardens.

-I told you- he says, coldly – i don't like owing.- as he drops the envelope over your table and some bills spill over it.

You don't say anything. 

-I know you kept your promise. I had you followed. Don't worry, is a person I trust.  
You laugh in disbelief.  
-Like that means something to me! You are a criminal, Mr. Snart.  
-Doesn't mean I don't keep my promises – he says, as he turns to the window and the fire scape.

You take the envelope.

-Is too much money for some first aid and an old pair of pants.- you say, as he starts going down the ladder.

He looks at you, just before his figure dissapears into the shadows of the night.  
-Maybe I like to know now you owe me. Maybe I'll be back to cash your debt.- He says, a playful smile at his lips. Is the first time you see him smile.

Storm clouds cover the moon. You hear his footsteps as he walks down the street and then dissapears.

All is calm.


	2. Weaving dreams of darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some smut for you guys! Not the best at it because... reasons. Working on this because I'm so happy it got so many kudos! Thank you!

Is it so wrong that you dreamed of him again? And it wasn't like regular dreams.

You had a couple of those, the days after the dognapping and everything. That masked men came to your house to take you away; the fear and the cries of your poor doggy, left alone in the dark.  
The cold.

I was a dream you only had two... OK, three times in the four months since the last time you saw Captain Cold.

It features restraints. Cold seeping into your limbs. Someone who takes you away in the dark of the night.

A chill tongue, lapping down your tears. Cold cold hands dancing over your tights, as you struggle against your bonds. You cry in pleasure as those cold fingers touch between your legs, as the tongue laps all your juices, as you cry for more. And a hand that fucks into you and the other one close over your throath, and is getting harder to breathe, and you try to cry, to tell him to give you more, just a little bit more...

Every time you had The Dream, you felt nauseated for days afterwards. Why? You are a grown woman, someone opinated and not coldhearted (ja!), but a caring and sweet person who wants someone to love her, who wants to make sweet sweet love to a loved one. 

Sometimes you see his face in the news. Is weird to think that he, a tought hard criminal, was just this close to death if you didn't help him. Maybe he could be dead. Maybe you could had... left him die. It wouldn't that make you something of a hero? Taking down such a dangerous person like that?

Other times, (most of them, to be fair) you know that you couldn't never kill anybody, not even in self-defense. Is not in your nature. And he came back with payment (too much of it) after all. 

You haven't used. Too scared of what he could want you to do. 

But what could he want of someone like you? You are smart, but not mad scientist mad; you had charm, but at the most that gets you an extra cookie at the coffe shop. And you know you are beautiful, with your heavy tights and your scarred skin; you with the pocked skin and the belly that hangs. 

When you feel like that, you go dancing. Because there's sonething you have, and that is grace. “The best dancer this side of the Atlantic”, they said, and laugh. And then every one of them fights for the first dance with you.


	3. Who invited you?

The state of relax you were trying to achieve it wasn't happening. Alone at home, dog going with your sister for the day, you draw a bath and drop a few essential oils into the water. As you feel yourself sinking (not enough water, bathtub not big enough), you muse about the cancelled date you were not having with that cute guy from work. He seemed pretty into you as you asked him for a night of Netflix and wine. But just a few hours ago he said that his parents gifted him with a airplane ticket to his hometown.  
You feel pretty down. Your friend cancelled your earlier plans to celebrate her birthday; your other dear friend wasn't taking your calls and now this.  
It seems that you have a long weekend ahead of you, alone.  
All alone.  
You start examinating your body, as you often do. Sometimes you just see flaws everywhere. Flabby tights (but strong enough, you say to yourself), scarred skin (but I'm controlling my anxiety better), big belly (but you never have stomach aches like your sister and you can eat anything you want and enjoy it too).  
You know you have good things too. A brilliant smile, beautiful eyes, a stunning rack and a perky backside. But today you are down. Why do you feel so lonely, so detached?  
The water has gone cold and your water heater hasn't picked up the slack yet, so you struggle to get out of the tub. Is a close thing but you're out finally just to see that you forgot the towels in your bedroom.  
A tap tap at the bathroom door freezes you.  
\- Hey doll, here is your towel. If you open up, I promise not to peek... Too much.


	4. I don't want to go home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why he's back?

When you get out of the bathroom, all dressed up in your dirty clothes and dripping, you saw him there, bleeding from the shoulder and lying in your ratty couch.

Your dog sniffs his leg as Cold scratches behind its ears, tail wagging.

She wasn't a good guard dog, with her affinity for thieves.

\- I told you I would be back, didn't I?- he said, cheeky. He was pale and his cheek was cold when you touched him. You never got around to take that first aid course you were meaning to, but one or the things you did do was update your first aid kit, even if you don't know how to use it (yet).

\- Is just a graze, but I wanted an excuse to see you again - he hisses as you clean the wound in his arm. You can't stitch him up, so a butterfly will have to do. As you start to clean up everything, he puts on the ruined pullover over his head and follows you to the bedroom, where you are stashing the kit. 

\- I don't think you are a quiet person, so seeing you like this is freaking me out. Are you sick, are you going to be sick, or...? 

You turn around and whack his other arm harsh.

\- Are you an idiot, Cold? What did you do? Why did you came back? Why are you bothering me? Don't you see I don't want anything with you and your kind? Are you trying to kill me? What do you want from me?! - you scream at him, tears spilling down your cheeks. 

He starts to walk to where you are, hair still wet. You sob as he looms close to you. He goes out to the bathroom and comes back with a wad of toilet paper. You clean your face and blow your nose as you look at him, his profile illuminated by the moonlight.

\- I came back here because I needed a place to lay low, and....- 

He sighs.

\- You have the same eyes as him.- 

What?

\- I'm not talking about color, of course. But you look at me just like he does. With... Kindness. 

The face he makes, like biting in a lemon.

\- and when I got shot today, I wanted to see your sweet face again, doll - he says, sayashing to where you are, sitting over the bed. - I know that if you wanted me gone you'll told me outright, with you being who you are. Ohhh, don't make that face. Of course I know who you work for. The DA's office. You think I would have you followed?- 

Your heart drops. He looks down at you, chuckling.  
\- You don't have to be worried. I don't intend to harm you. After all, I'm indebted to you again - he winced slightly, cupping his arm.

You look at him, and suddenly feel the cold air in the room and your very cold feet.

\- Would you mind putting the kettle on? - you say softly. - I really want to change clothes and put in something a little more warming. 

He left you alone in your room, but first gives you a long, hard look. Is so unsettling how he can makes you feel naked even with all the layers you have on. 

What he really wants from you?


	5. Why can't I keep you safe (as my own)?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard misses her. (Snart POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet I hope. Sorry!

Summer days were the worst, Leonard though to himself. The humidity of Central combined with the high temperatures were atrocious. Everything smelled...wet. More people on the street complicated every operation; after his "pact" with Barry he was very concerned with following the condition that The Flash cared about the most: not killing. If is very difficult to get Mick under control... But for now they were all laying low and preoccupied with "personal projects".

At least they weren't all together in the same safe house. It would be very difficult to explain what he was doing here again, following her. 

OK, he wasn't following her, like a stalker.  
Not much.

Just. He wanted to know how she was doing. After all, her sister was out of the city for two weeks and he knows she always feels blue when her sister is not close.

Yes, he's a stalker. But she told him all about her sister the last time they saw each other!

Leonard remembers that night fondly. 

Lame.

But they drinked tea and talked about life and work and he gave her some pointers to take care of herself when she goes out to take the dog for a walk. After all, what if a madmad took her hostage? Or something?

The night is cloudy, thank God. That makes almost impossible to see him with the binoculars as he looks at her windows. Not that she's a fan of letting the curtains open, but he feels better to know she's there, safe in her own house. Maybe she's reading, maybe she's watching some Netflix or reading or cooking. But she's safe.

He needs a good reason to appear at her door. Maybe and injury? No. He's played that card already. Maybe he forgot something at her place, or he saw something interesting for any of the investigations in course at the precint.

("The assistant for the DA? Lenny, you are playing with fire! If you want so bad to be behind bars, I have a very good friend who's a Dom and could indulge this... Necessity of yours.")

Yes, is in his better interest that Lise doesn't know about his... Hobby. But he wants to see her. Listen to her voice. Smell her perfume. 

He wants to know her. Want to see her eyes shine and hear her laugh. 

It is so bad that her makes him think of Barry?

Saint Allen. Superhero extraordinary.

They have the same eyes. The kindness, the warmth and the ... Faith. Faith that he could be something different.

Something better.

Leonard breathes deeply and the plastic casing of the binoculars creaks in his hands.

No one, not The Flash or this girl will make him a different man. He is who he is.

A crook. A thief. A con man.

A murderer.


End file.
